Canvas

To my Canvas,

You gave yourself to me

And from your veins I took red

You poured lemon grass in my violent storms

And blood orange in my tortured skies

But I repaid you in watercolor

Only muted hues passed these lips

For those cost me nothing

Those betrayed nothing

I saved the true colors of my passions

the violets and rich reds for this aching beast

But all the pastels I painted you in

Paled in comparison to this bleeding heart

As time wove your tales through my eyes

As I suffocated in the heat of your embrace

I lost myself

I dripped upon my canvas, in spite of all I had,

a blistering yellow

You grew near me with your kindness

and I grew to tease you with my blues

But before I fell out of your trance

You ripped from me rich tones that bubbled past my tongue

But for all your efforts

I still held the rich tones of red for greedy self

For reds were worn by my truth

They were the flesh of my heart

And I could not part with sinful red

But yet

You remained through my moods

All my hues wore themselves on your sleeves

But mostly,

You were violent in your approach

Because through all the hideous fragments of this painter

You stayed

You made me splatter in sharp staccato

shred through paper

Until I poured boiling red upon your skin

At last I found a canvas

To transform fickle crimson

To tender scarlet

My Canvas,

thank you for letting this artist bleed red again